


Soft Love Hurts

by Waywardwiz



Category: How I Met Your Mother
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2019-01-06 11:25:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12210315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waywardwiz/pseuds/Waywardwiz
Summary: In January I published a Ted/Barney fic called "Not a Priority" and it made me so sad that I have now decided to write a continuation (in two parts). Part 1 is kinda short, part 2 longer (because apparently I can't write Ted and Barney without having them do the nasty).Rated Explicit for later chapters."It is November, on a quiet Sunday night where the air is crisp with the promise of frost, when Barney finally snaps. Ted has just called him his best friend, and that would have been great if it hadn’t been for the context. Ted wants something from him. He almost always does. "





	1. Chapter 1

**Soft Love Hurts**

 

It is November, on a quiet Sunday night where the air is crisp with the promise of frost, when Barney finally snaps. Ted has just called him his best friend, and that would have been great if it hadn’t been for the context. Ted wants something from him. He almost always does. They are alone and Barney is so tired.

”Okay, so you are totally my best friend if you – ”  
”Stop” Barney stands from his seat at the end of their booth, the legs of his chair scraping noisily across the floor, ”just… Just fucking stop, Ted”  
He barely recognizes his own voice, it’s shaking so badly. His hands are clenched tightly into fists, his fingernails digging into the skin of his palms almost painfully, and his breath is coming quickly as he watches Ted’s reaction. The look on Ted’s face would be kind of hilarious if not for the gravity of the situation. His expressions shifts from one of shock to indignation back to astonishment. His mouth is slightly agape and his eyes are wide. Barney gets why. He doesn’t usually drop the f-bomb (except for during sex, shh) as he thinks it’s a crude phrase, but now he it seems like it’s the only word that fits the situation. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. It hurts.

“What the hell, Barney– “ Ted starts, leaning back against the back of the couch and setting his beer carelessly back onto its’ coaster – it makes a dull sound and the golden liquid splashes precariously against the inside of the glass -, “what’s wrong with you?”  
“What’s wrong with me?” Barney retorts, all pretences of calm out the window. He knows that people are watching, that he is making a scene, that this must look like a child throwing a tantrum, but he is too riled up to care. “You know when I’m your best friend?”  
“What?” Ted asks.  
“When I’m your best friend?” Barney repeats, his voice eerily quiet. His face feels ugly and contorted with resentment. He hates this, hates it so much, he can’t stand it. “I’m your best friend when you want something from me. I’m your best friend when you feel sorry for me. I’m your best friend when I’ve been run over by a fucking bus”.

Understanding flashes in Ted’s eyes and his mouth grows tight with regret as Barney goes on – it’s like a faucet, broken, he can’t turn it off –, “and you know what? I’ll do this thing for you, whatever it is. I’ll do _everything_ for you, Ted. But stop pretending that I mean more than that. You’re so cruel. You’re so fucking cruel and hurtful, and you don’t…”  
Barney draws in a sharp breath and straightens his back. He closes his eyes for a second, two, to collect himself, and when he opens them again he sees Ted looking rattled, and Barney thinks he ought to feel some kind of satisfaction that he has shocked his friend into silence, but he doesn’t. He just feels exhausted and hollow.  
He picks up his overcoat, and says, “you don’t even realize it. But I do, and I’m done”.

He turns to leave but is stopped short by a hand on his arm, fingers wrapping around his wrist, keeping him in place. He doesn’t look over his shoulder, though. He hears muted conversation, people are talking. He wants to go home. Ted’s words sounds punched-out and distraught, “Barney, stay. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean… I mean, I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t know it meant that much to you”  
“Of course you didn’t. Now let go”  
“Barney, sidebar, we should talk about this” Ted all but pleads, and for a brief moment Barney considers it. Considers sitting down and hearing what Ted has to say, let himself be appeased with lame excuses, just let it go. Ted has a way of speaking with a conviction so heartfelt and sincere that you usually can’t help but forgive him. Usually. Barney has a soft spot for Ted. The softest. Love is soft and agonizing. But there is too much anger still boiling low in Barney’s stomach and he recognizes with total, unflinching clarity that this is what he has been building up to for a long time (for years) and now he cannot undo it. He won’t.

“I don’t want to talk” he says, and tries to free himself from Ted’s grasp, but the other man is holding onto him firmly, “I want to go home. Let go of me”.  
He is prepared for Ted to resist, to voice objections, but he must have recognized something in Barney’s voice, some line that shouldn’t be crossed. His arm is released and he pulls it tight against his chest, like he is shielding it from Ted’s touch. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck me_. Then he throws a twenty on the table to pay for his scotch and strides out of MacLaren’s in a flutter of coat tails. Snow has started to fall in a light flurry of shimmering white flakes. It’s beautiful and he wishes that he could share it with Ted.

Barney doesn’t look back.


	2. Click

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this is the second chapter (or third, depending on whether you count "Not a Priority" as the first chapter). Things are heating up.   
> Warning for hurt, sadness and sudden realization.
> 
> "Should he let him in? Is this Barney being ridiculous? Is he throwing a tantrum. James always said he was good at throwing tantrums when he was little. Has he just never outgrown it and has dragged the bad habit with him into adult life kicking and screaming? Probably. What is a “best friend” anyway? But the hurt gnaws at him and he stays where he is. He is allowed to be sad, or in pain, or both. Why does he have to be the bigger person in this?"

”Yeah, no” Barney says, his phone balanced against his chin and shoulder as he chops an onion into tiny pieces.  
“dude!” Robin protests, voice loud enough to force Barney to put down the knife and move the phone from his ear, “you never wanna hang anymore!”  
Barney rolls his eyes, feeling somewhere between fond and exasperated, “stop being such a drama queen. I’m just flooded with work lately. The quarterly earnings, you know”  
“I’m not sure that’s a thing”  
“How would you know?”  
“I – “

“You know nothing, Jon Snow” Barney says triumphantly and, momentarily distracted, almost cuts a piece off of his left hand’s forefinger, barely missing the digit. He curses softly beneath his breath. He could have just put the phone on speaker, rather than crouching with it like a clumsy hunchback. He didn’t even consider that option; he’s all rattled and messes up stupid little things. It’s been a week and a half, for God’s sake. He should be turning back to normal by now, that’s the Stinson way. Instead he is distracted and just… sad, you know. He has been working from home and tried to go to bars (not MacLaren’s) but it feels more like going through the motions rather than actively participating in his own life. He misses his friends but he can’t stand the thought of seeing Ted, of being close to him, knowing that Ted knows. He should, he has to. Ted is not stupid. How could he not be suspecting that Barney adores him?  
“I will do everything for you”. That’s what he told Ted at the bar. Isn’t that shy of a declaration of love, or at least deep, embarrassing, devastating devotion? He shouldn’t nag on Robin for being dramatic, when he isn’t much better. 

Barney can hear the frown in Robin’s words, “Barney. Are you okay?”  
“I’m fine” he says, forcing some extend of cheerfulness into his voice.  
Robin hesitates, then slowly, like she is unsure whether it is her place to do so, says, “Ted’s been acting weird and you have been avoiding him like the Plague. Did you two fight?”  
Something cold and furious settles in the pit of Barney’s stomach and though he knows that his friend means well he suddenly can’t wait to exterminate the conversation.   
“Scherbatsky, it’s not my fault if Ted has issues”  
“I didn’t say it was” Robin interjects, her voice sharp, before the tone of it switches to something softer, something comforting. He is unaccustomed to that level of sensitivity from her; “I’m just concerned. But I won’t ask anymore”  
Barney sighs and presses two fingers to the bridge of his nose, – he is starting to get a headache. 

“No. I’m sorry. I’m just, I’m stressed out, Robin. It’s sweet that you thought of me, thanks. But I just – “ he tries to keep the marrow-deep exhaustion out of his words, “I need to be alone for a little while. Okay?”  
There is silence on the other end and Barney worries for a second that Robin will voice more objections, but she doesn’t. She is a good friend, she knows him. Knows when enough is enough and when he needs to be melancholy. What she gets – what Lily has never quite understood – is that sometimes pain cannot be soothed by talking and sharing and giving. Sometimes the only thing you can do is soldier through by yourself and let the absence of chatter mend the wounds. Sometimes it is enough to know that you have friends who are there to greet you on the other side when you are ready to not be alone anymore.  
“Okay” she breathes, finally, “okay. But, Barney?”  
“Yes?”  
“Text me if you need anything”

“I will. Thanks” he says, and he really means it. He is eternally grateful to have people like Robin – and Marshall, and Lily – in his life. He knows that he can be a bit of a nuisance at times, that his escapades are a little much, and yet he can go to sleep at night completely assured that they will be there for him the next day. Ted, too, Barney reluctantly concedes, then brutally pushes the thought down. He is not ready for that stage of his grief where he tries to justify Ted’s actions. He might not have set out to burn bridges – he cares too much for such extreme measures – but he needs to remove himself from the narrative he has been part of for so long and which only causes him to suffer. He needs to learn how to maintain a distance from Ted where he can’t get hurt when Ted is being insensitive, to get to a place where he can shrug it off and smile. And until he is sure that he can do that, he has to stay away. He has to stop feeling all these things, because loving and resenting in equal measure is just so hard and confusing. If only he could just fix it, but it’s never that easy to turn off one’s heart. If so then half of the world’s romantic movies would be cut short by an hour. And if that girl from “How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days” can’t make it happen, well, what chance does Barney have? No, he just has to ride out the storm; watch movies and eat Ben and Jerry’s and be gross in sweatpants for one more week, and then he has to suit up and be awesome again, because he can’t let Ted control him. Ted and his laugh and his smile and his touch that sends Barney’s heart thundering and shatters his defences….

He drops his phone on the kitchen counter and makes a noise of frustration, something akin to a sob, before he catches himself. He is not going to cry. Crying is for weak losers and dudes in ponytails who listen to Baba B. Ted isn’t worth turning into a vegan hippie again.   
But still. There are tears, suddenly, unbidden, and Barney is helpless to stop them. He shuffles over to the couch, cursing in between wet, shaky sobs, and God, he hates Ted so much in this moment. Because Ted makes him feel these things. Ted turns him into a pathetic mess who can’t tie his cravat because his fingers tremble too badly. He has been crying on and off for a week. It’s becoming old, and yet he can’t seem to make it go away.   
“Fuck, fuck, fuck” he hisses, because he is being so theatrical. It’s not the end of the world that Ted doesn’t mean it when he calls Barney his best friend. Barney is a grown man. Adults aren’t supposed to care about besties. 

He falls onto the cushions and swings his legs onto the armrest before grabbing for the remote. He zaps through the channels without really registering what’s happening on screen. He settles on some re-run of a MASH episode. He has always liked that show. He likes to think that Trapper and Hawkeye are like him and – Jesus Christ, stop, you mess. He closes his eyes, red and itchy, and tries to turn everything off, to tune out all intrusive thoughts and focus solely on the chorus of “Suicide is painless”. It works. He is lulled into a sort of trance, somewhere between consciousness and slumber, and then a few more minutes pass by and he slips into sleep. He is roused into wakefulness some time later – it must be hours, he thinks, the colours and shadows have changed around him, grown darker and longer – when there is a knock on the door. His mind is hazy and his thoughts are disorganized and muddled. The headache is worse than before. For a minute he contemplates just ignoring the person outside and going back to sleep but the possibility of doing so is slipping from his palm with every firm knock that forces him further into wakefulness.   
“Who is it?” he asks, his voice hoarse. 

“It’s me”  
Ted. Ted who has tried calling him twenty-five times and texted him thirty-nine. Ted who asked if it was okay to visit and who listened when Barney texted back telling him to stay away because he didn’t want him there. Ted who is at his door.  
“Go away”  
“No”  
“Go away, Ted” Barney says again, a hint of a warning creeping into his voice, “I told you to leave me alone”.  
Ted, ever stubborn and obstinate, replies, “And I have. And now we need to talk”  
The cold and clammy hand around Barney’s heart tightens as he snaps, “correction; you need to talk. I don’t need to do anything”  
There is silence for a long minute and Barney hopes against hope that Ted has gone up and left. He is just about to go check the spy hole when Ted’s voice sounds through the door, “okay, fine. You’re right, I need to talk. Just, hear me out. That would be enough”.

Should he let him in? Is this Barney being ridiculous? Is he throwing a tantrum. James always said he was good at throwing tantrums when he was little. Has he just never outgrown it and has dragged the bad habit with him into adult life kicking and screaming? Probably. What is a “best friend” anyway? But the hurt gnaws at him and he stays where he is. He is allowed to be sad, or in pain, or both. Why does he have to be the bigger person in this?  
He doesn’t say anything , which Ted seems to take as quiet endorsement , and so he starts talking:  
“Barney, I’m sorry”  
Heard that one already.  
“You’re right. I’ve been thoughtless”  
That’s new.  
The anguish in Ted’s voice is real. Barney knows that. But apologies are easy. And Barney has prepared himself for this.  
“Yeah, that’s it. I didn’t think” Ted says, and there is a dull thumb on the door – the sound of clenched fists against wood –, “I’ve been terrible. I’ve been using the friend-card at the drop of a hat, and never thought how it would affect you. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, but I did, and I –“ he draws a long breath, “Barney, please, please let me in”.   
Barney is resolute not to, but then Ted says, and he sounds so vulnerable and raw, “please, I have to see you”, and Barney finds himself unlocking the door.

And there stands Ted. His hair is messy. He has a nervous habit of running his hands through it when he is upset. He has chewing on his bottom lip, Barney notices in a detached sort of way, the flesh red from the abuse. His dark eyes shine with a mix of relief and apprehension.  
“Thank you” he says.   
Barney nods and backs up a few steps to let Ted into the apartment. He moves so that he is standing behind the kitchen island. He feels better there, almost like he is protected by some kind of fortification. Like a physical defence can protect his feelings and soften the blows. It was a mistake, letting Ted in. He can feel his resolve crumbling just by looking at his friend, huddling in the doorway, forlorn and pitiful. You’re too soft.  
He has never had much experience fighting with Ted. He doesn’t know how it’s supposed to go. Part of him wants Ted to go away, and another part wants him to stay – stay and take Barney in his arms and hold him and make good of those apologies. God, he’s a mess.  
“Ted, if you’re just going to stand there – “ he starts and hopes he doesn’t sound as hysterical as he feels.  
Ted says, hastily, as if afraid that Barney will kick him out if he stays quiet for too long (and to be fair that is a very real possibility), “I’m not, sorry”. He twists his hands, the rough touch pulling lightly at the skin covering his knuckles, “Barney, there was something you said. That night in the bar, you know”

The rush of blood is echoing in Barney’s ears, loud and obnoxious, and he feels terrified because this is it.   
“I don’t know what you’re talking about” he lies, holding on to the counter’s marble top so tightly it hurts.  
Ted averts his gaze briefly before shifting it back to Barney, “you said you would do anything for me. No, you said everything”  
“I don’t think I did”  
It seems like an embarrassingly small thing now. It might have been phrased a bit weird, but friends say crap like this to each other without there being anything deeper hiding in there, don’t they?  
“You did”  
To Barney’s horror Ted takes a brisk step forward, towards him. Barney raises a hand between them and Ted stops dead in his track.  
“I…”  
“What did it mean?”

The roles have switched – Ted is in control of the situation and Barney is at a loss. His hands are trembling and he stuffs them in the pocket of his pants.   
He says, “nothing, it meant nothing. People say those things. I just wanted you to stop calling me your friend when you don’t mean it”.  
For some reason Ted looks completely horrified and Barney wonders why until he realizes his verbal slip-up.  
“Barney, of course you’re my friend”  
Turning his eyes toward the heavens Barney groans and says, “best friend, whatever. Ted, I know you’ll think about it from now on. It’s okay, we’re good. I want you to leave now. I’m tired of this, I’ll see you tomorrow – “  
“What did it mean?” Ted asks again, mulishly refusing to back down on his previous question.  
“What did what mean?”   
He is playing dumb but he doesn’t know how to stop and Ted is coming closer, his eyes on Barney, burning and beautiful, and Barney feels like water is rising around him and he is sinking.   
Ted is around the island now.  
“Ted, stop “

He listens. He evens takes a step back, like he doesn’t wish to crowd Barney. Well, shucks, he does so just by being in the room. Ted takes up every space with his presence and Barney is caught up in him.  
The younger man says, “what did it mean when you said that you would do everything for me?”  
There is an edge to his voice that wasn’t there before. Barney feels hot and feverish all over.  
He tries to establish some measure of control by behaving nonchalant, “that’s what you do for friends”.  
“Yes but you never say things like that. Not like that. Why me?”  
“Aren’t you here to apologize? What’s with the interrogation?” Barney hisses and thinks that this has gone on long enough. He moves around Ted briskly, going for the door. He doesn’t know whether he is going to make Ted leave or just go himself, wander the city until he can come home to an empty apartment.

A hand on his wrist stops him. He looks down reluctantly, and there are Ted’s fingers wrapped around him, a painful reminder of that night a few weeks ago. Funny, it feels like it has been longer.  
“Ted – “  
“I’m sorry” Ted says softly, “I’m sorry. I really am. I was cruel and I hurt you and I’m sorry. But tell me what it means. Please , tell me. I need to know what it means, and then I’ll leave”  
“Why do you keep asking me tha – “   
That is when it clicks for Barney. That is when Ted kisses him.


	3. Let It Be Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the finishing chapter of my story! The third chapter, or the fourth, if you include "Not a Priority". Which you have to, because there is a reference to it at the end of this chapter. But to summarize, our boys get a happy ending because I'm a sucker for those.
> 
> "Truthfully he doesn’t remember much of what happened after the bus crashed into him all those months ago. He does remember what it felt like, though – pain, excruciating and violent and oh, I want to die, dying doesn’t feel like this. He remembers being confused; he remembers chaos in vivid colors and fear because he couldn’t feel his legs. was he falling? He might as well have been falling. He remembers throwing up and crying because God, it hurt so much."

**Let It Be Me**

 

Truthfully he doesn’t remember much of what happened after the bus crashed into him all those months ago. He does remember what it felt like, though – pain, excruciating and violent and _oh, I want to die, dying doesn’t feel like this_. He remembers being confused; he remembers chaos in vivid colors and fear because he couldn’t feel his legs. was he falling? He might as well have been falling. He remembers throwing up and crying because God, it hurt so much.

This feels like that. Or, well, at least in an emotional way. Like he has been doused with ice water and like he is waiting for someone to come help him but the world has stopped and no one is. Kissing Ted is unbearable. But it is also perfect, and that is even worse.  The most apparent parallel between this moment and the accident is the fact that his mind is racing with a constant repeat of _Ted, Ted, (is Ted okay)_ , like he is a broken record. _  
_ Ted’s lips are chapped and his grip is tight around Barney’s waist and in his hair, tugging harshly on blonde tresses. There is desperation in the way he clutches at Barney, the way his tongue probes against his lips and the way Ted’s dark eyes scan his face for any sign that he wants this – or doesn’t, Barney is so confused, he has no idea what Ted is looking for. And Barney has no idea what he himself wants, but he knows that this isn’t it.

Bracing himself with both hands against Ted’s chest he pushes him away roughly. Ted stumbles but manages to right himself against the back of the couch. His cheeks are flushed. Barney rubs his mouth with the back of his hand, like he can dry away the memory of the kiss.  But he can’t. It’s there, no matter what he does to change it. Barney has wanted this for so long – how long? forever –, to feel Ted against him like this, to feel warm and cared for and _wanted_.  
“Stop!” he says and his voice is shaking so badly and he feels so defenseless, and maybe scared isn’t the right word, but it’s up there, “fuck, Ted, what the fuck?”  
“Barney, I’m _so_ sorry, I – “ Ted starts, stops, then tries again, “I thought this was what you wanted”  
He sounds defeated, and for some reason this ignites Barney’s anger, turning it into a roaring flame. Because how dare Ted make him feel like this is his fault, like he is somehow responsible?  
“That this is what I wanted? That I wanted it like this? A fuck -... A fucking pity kiss?” he stammers, too agitated to speak articulately, “you came here to apologize for being a jackass, I said it was fine and then you go and pull crap like this!”

There’s a weird light in Ted’s eyes, and a shadow of a smile on his face. Barney hates it. He also loves it. How he wishes he could get hit by a bus again, that would be less upsetting. But he has never been that lucky.  
“Why are you smiling?” he demands.  
“Because you said you didn’t want it “like this”.”  
“Oh my GOD, you have _got_ to stop putting hidden meaning into the shit I say!” Barney says, thoroughly frustrated, his heart galloping in the hollow of his chest.  
“I think you want this” Ted ventures.  
“I don’t” Barney says, shaking his head profusely. He wants to run, or hide, or something, anything but be here with Ted’s sympathy, with Ted’s useless kisses. But he also wants to stay. He wants to see what happens.  
Ted nods, like realization is dawning on him, “you do. Don’t you?”  
There is something locked in Barney’s throat, making it feel too tight for words. The only thing he can do is stare at Ted as the other man’s smile – that sweet, tentative little thing that Barney worships – widens into something truly wonderful.

“Don’t you?”  
Barney shakes his head.  
“Are you sure?”  
Barney nods his head, but slower this time, and Ted’s entire fucking face brightens because he _knows_ , because Ted is so perceptive (and isn’t that just the most infuriating thing?). He steps closer and Barney doesn’t move.  
Then Ted is in front of him, so near that Barney can feel scorching air when the other man’s breath hitches against his chin. He is way up in Barney’s space and Barney feels like one big electric current when Ted reaches for him. His movements are careful and unhurried and he is clearly giving Barney the option to stop him. But Barney doesn’t. _I don’t know how to say no to this_. And then Ted’s hand is on him, his thumb gently stroking along the curve of Barney’s cheekbone, and Barney _wants_.  
“Barney?” Ted asks, softly, and the way Ted says his name is like perfection. Barney wants him to say it all the time.  
“Yes?” he breathes, his hands bunching tightly in the fabric of Ted’s shirt, resting against the sharp ridges of his hipbones. He has to touch or he will fall apart.  
Ted makes a sound low in his throat, and when did the room suddenly get so stiflingly hot?  
“I’m sorry I didn’t ask before kissing you. That was dumb, and I understand if you want me to go. But... I want you. Do you want me?”  
Of course he does. Barney can’t remember having ever wanted anyone – anything – more in his entire life.  
Ted looks up at Barney, his eyes so hopeful and earnest.

Barney chokes on his words when he tries to force them, and then realizes that words aren’t enough anyway. So he kisses Ted, and Ted kisses back fiercely, and this time it’s everything Barney wanted it to be, and more. Ted kisses like he is drowning; every touch of his lips intense and passionate and like sparks against Barney’s heated skin. They fall into each other and when Ted licks into Barney’s mouth and Barney tastes Ted’s tongue his legs almost give out from under him, but thankfully Ted is there to catch him and keep him standing. They are holding onto each other so tight. Ted starts kissing down Barney’s neck, biting purple marks and soothing the bruised skin with his tongue immediately after. His left hand is cradling the back of Barney’s head and his right is on Barney’s arm, resting lightly, a stark contrast to the franticness with which his fingers are twisting into Barney’s hair. Barney cranes his neck back on his own volition so that the long column of his throat is completely bared to Ted’s teeth, granting him better access, and the sharp , teasing nibbling  just beneath his jaw almost sends him reeling.

“Ted, God...” he hisses, and he has to kiss Ted again, claim his lips and make him his. He wraps his arms around Ted’s neck, and presses his fingertips into his shoulders, suddenly wishing Ted’s shirt gone so that he might scratch his nails against naked flesh. He wants to mark Ted, draw lines and spell words, sweet phrases, promises and enticing propositions that will sink into Ted’s skin and be for him alone.  
“Barney” Ted gasps, and groans softly around a swearword when Barney pulls at his hair and aligns them at the hips, pushing forward in one smooth thrust. Ted is already hard in his jeans and the knowledge that he has this effect on his friend is a rush to Barney.  
Ted makes another attempt at talking, “are you sure, I – do you want - ?”  
Barney murmurs into his ear, his voice pitched low and aching with all the things he has inside him, “I want you, I want you so, so much”  
Ted moans and kisses the shell of Barney’s ear, whispering, “how long?”  
“Always, since we met”, Barney confesses softly, scrambling to free Ted’s shirt from his pants and reveling at every lingering touch from Ted, “how did you not know? How...”  
His voice falters for a moment and he swallows around a lump in his throat, “how could you not know?”

“I do now” Ted whispers huskily (and shit, that does something to Barney’s – well – everything), face lit up with sincerity, affection, something, a _lot_...  
“You didn’t know, either” he says.  
His smile against Barney’s chin is wide and silky – Ted has the softest lips -, and Barney feels himself melting into the embrace. To his own embarrassment his next words come out a purr, “I didn’t. But...”  
He pauses, and then repeats Ted’s assurance back to him, “But I do now”.  
And that is when he realizes that he has forgiven Ted. Not completely, but mostly. He isn’t quite sure how he feels about that, exactly. He had wanted to take a step back, to distance himself from their friendship. But that had made him miserable. Now Ted has apologized, and he is touching Barney, and it feels right, so right. He is alive and buzzing with sensation and emotions and his heart soars in his chest. Everything about this moment is intense. Barney can’t bear it. His mind wants him to remove himself from the scenario, but his heart, oh, his heart.  
The heart wants what it wants, right? That must be a quote from somewhere (Dickinson? pretty sure it’s Dickinson), Barney thinks feebly. Then he is utterly distracted by Ted stroking the nape of his neck with playful fingertips. He whispers sweetly, eyes bright with potential, “what do you want?”  
Barney finds himself stumbling slightly, his mind sluggish with need, “everything, all of you”.

“I’m yours”  
Ted says and smiles, a sultry, stunning little tug on the corner of his lips, and drops to his knees. Barney might just pass out when Ted unzips his pants and with no preamble tugs them down, trapping Barney’s legs within the confines of the fabric. Thankfully there is a wall behind Barney, or he might just fall over. Instead he leans against it heavily, next to the freezer, tilting back his head and closing his eyes, totally overwhelmed when his briefs join the rest of his clothes. He moans loudly, a long sound ripped from his throat, when Ted takes his cock in his mouth and hums softly in satisfaction. He draws in his cheeks, swallowing Barney deeper.  
“Shit” Barney groans, and he suspects that his cheeks are flushed, like there is a furnace beneath his skin, “How are you so good at this?”  
Ted makes a happy little tune that vibrates around Barney, and when he starts to suck him, his teeth scraping lightly at Barney’s length, Barney sighs and whimpers and whines. He digs his hands into Ted’s hair, twisting it around his fingers, and yanks, relishing in the look of dark locks contrasting beautifully against his paler hands. Ted makes a curious noise deep in his throat, one of pure bliss, and Barney makes a mental note that Ted like having his hair played with; maybe later that trick will come in handy, some other time.. He tries to step on the break, forcibly reminding himself that this could very well be the first and last time they do this. The thought is a somber one, and Barney manages to push it to the back of his mind. If it is to be a one-time thing, he is determined to enjoy every second of it.

The rhythm of Ted’s movements is steady, every single twist of his hand and every lick of his tongue expertly designed to turn Barney into a quivering, moaning mess. Barney all but sobs when Ted sits back on his heels, letting Barney slip from his mouth. He looks down at Ted, and his friend looks up at him, locking their gazes as he raises his hands to his mouth and starts licking his finger, slowly and deliberately.  
He tilts his head as his tongue pokes out, coating three of his fingers liberally with saliva. When he removes them from his mouth they are glistening, and Barney is completely mesmerized.  
He murmurs, “Ted, what  are you – “  
And then the question steals away from him, because Ted has begun blowing him again while his hand slips up Barney’s legs, behind his sack, and – _oh_. Oh.  
Barney cries out softly when Ted’s fingers circle around his sensitive rim, experimentally poking against it. He never once stops looking at Barney, and there is something wild and electric in his gaze. As his forefinger carefully, with the thorough, methodical approach that characterizes everything Ted does, breaches Barney’s sphincter and starts moving inside him, he says, words somewhat garbled around Barney’s cock but none the less intelligible, “you want to come, Barney? You want to come for me?”  
“I – “ Barney gasps. What is happening to him? His heart is racing a thousand miles an hour and his thoughts are scattered yet, somehow, singularly focused. Ted is doing things to him and he has lost all sense of eloquence, and for once in his life he doesn’t care. Another finger joins the first, then a third, and Ted intensifies his effort with teeth and tongue and lips. When he finds that sweet spot inside, Barney sees stars behind closed eyelids. He whimpers something like Ted’s name, as the other man demands, “come in my mouth”  
“Ted!”  
“Please” Ted says, eyes seeing straight into Barney’s soul, “I want to taste you”.  
Barney comes with a loud, wanton groan and Ted swallows every bitter drop, moaning like he is having the time of his life. Barney is in Heaven.

Ted stands swiftly, albeit on slightly shaky legs, and he envelopes Barney in his arms, holding him close. Barney is finding himself in some strange place between desire and intimacy. Somehow he likes it. That never used to happen before.  
Ted nipples gently at Barney’s ear, and says, voice heavy with yearning, “the things you do to me...”  
“Tell me” Barney pleads, and he wants to stay in Ted’s embrace forever. He really needs to know because until half an hour ago he would have never in his wildest dreams dared to imagine that Ted might be anything but ramrod straight. That Ted might want him, that Ted might feel the same. So he is desperate to know what it is that makes Ted’s eyes glow with lust and delirious hunger.  
Ted kisses him once, almost chastely, before he takes a step back. He gently coaxes Barney with him, and says, dropping butterfly kisses on his face between every few word as he guides him backwards toward the bedroom; “you want the gooey version or the... let’s say not so gooey version?”  
“Gooey” Barney says, feeling somewhat vulnerable.

“You make me feel so much. I mean, it’s like... When I’m with you I’m special, and fun, and valued”  
Ted must have thought about this before; the words flow too easily for them to be made up on the fly. The notion that Ted might have considered what he would say in a situation like this makes Barney feel drunk with longing, as well as sort of powerful.  
He is about to ask what else he makes Ted feel, but to his surprise Ted needs no prompting.  
As they step over the threshold to the bedroom, Ted flips open the first button on Barney’s shirt. He says, as he works the rest with practiced ease, “You do me in. Barney, you just, you are so much. Compassionate, and kind, and you try to take care of everyone, but you don’t want us to know that you do. And I don’t understand why you don’t take credit for all the things you do for us. You have the biggest heart in the world, and you hurt so easily, and you feel so much. I love that about you.”  
“Ted” he gasps, his arms winding themselves around Ted’s neck, the fingers of his left hand finding Ted’s pulse. He takes comfort in the steadiness of a heartbeat beneath his palm.  
Ted finishes with a kiss to his forehead, brief and tender, feather light; “You’re amazing”.  
Barney’s entire body burns with a slow fire and when he feels the madras against the back of his knees he lets himself be steered onto the duvet more than willingly, Ted balancing on his elbows and knees on top of him. His mouth is peppering kisses across Barney’s face, neck, chest, whatever he can reach, and Barney is ecstatic, high on Ted’s larger-than-life presence.

“Oh” he exhales, reverently, and he moans and writhes and is so wrecked. His heart, his fucking great big heart, is doing a joyous victory dance. And that’s only from Ted talking to him. Not even talking dirty, just... Complimenting him. Barney has never been good at handling praise, as he hasn’t had much experience with it.  
“Thank you” he says, completely thrown. His ears are red but he finds himself smiling still, because he can’t help it, because Ted does that to him.  
Ted smiles too, eyebrow raised, conveying amusement, and he looks at Barney like he is the most endearing person in the world, “are you okay?”  
Barney nods and assures him, “ _so_ okay” for good measure.  
“But, Ted?”  
“Yeah?” Ted asks, lifting his face from where it has been nestled in the crock of Barney’s neck. His eyes are dark in the waning light in Barney’s bedroom and his hands are now resting on Barney’s hips, holding him down, though not roughly. Barney knows with absolute certainty that if he made as much as a sound of displeasure Ted would explode into a mass of apologies. Ted would do anything to make him happy. Make everyone happy; he’s just like that.  
“You’re way overdressed for this” Barney says, acutely aware of the fact that he is naked except for his unbuttoned shirt. Ted laughs and stands to shrug out of his clothes. Barney, folding his arms behind his head, studies Ted’s every movement with fascination, feeling pleasantly buzzed. He takes it all in; Ted’s wide shoulders, strong limps, a subtle, yet evident presence of muscles bunched beneath toned skin. Barney studies every detail with keen eyes. Beer has made Ted’s belly a little pudgy, in a sort of loveable way, and he has a small scar above his waist. A brush of hair makes for a tantalizing trail from his chest and down. His cock is nestled in dark curls, long and slender and softly curved. He sees Barney looking at him and Barney delights in the slight blush tinting Ted’s ears and cheeks, self-conscious as he is. _He shouldn’t be embarrassed_ , Barney thinks, _he’s beautiful_.

Ted comes back, but just as he is about to lean down and kiss Barney he is stopped by a finger pressed against his upper lip. Barney feels Ted’s grin against his finger as well as the ghost of hot air as he chuckles beneath his breath. Ted parts his lips, allowing it to slide in a couple centimeter, and murmurs arounds the digit, “what is it?”  
Barney bites the inside of his cheek as he attempts to steal himself, all the while trying to ignore the sensation of Ted’s tongue lapping at his fingertip. The feely, “gooey” speech Ted made before had been enough to turn him into a mushy pile of desire and adoration. He has no idea how his dignity will survive whatever comes next. But then again, screw dignity.

“The not so gooey version. I want to hear it”  
A peculiar expression slips over Ted’s face, one that Barney is unfamiliar with until he recognizes it for what it is; lust, a deep hunger, something slightly predatory. This is... Well, not exactly a new Ted, just a different aspect of his person, one Barney is just now becoming acquainted with. He can’t wait. Ted’s mouth slips open in a soft moan when Barney bucks up into him, rolling his hips languidly. Words seem lost to him, so Barney tries to urge him on. “Ted” he says, opening his legs a little so that his friend can settle closer against him, breath hitching when their erections are pressed together. Ted reaches down, his finger skimming over Barney’s chest, torso, waist, only to find his aching member and take it in his hand. Barney arches up against Ted and makes a sound he has no idea how to categorize. Ted’s grip around him is tight and agonizingly perfect, and it is only a matter of minutes before Barney’s cock is leaking pre-come between his fingers as a result of Ted stroking him. Barney is crying out and dragging his nails down Ted’s back, satisfied to hear him hiss in pain and pleasure.

Ted’s other hand, the one that is not busy turning Barney into a needy jumble, latches onto the blonde’s jaw, turning his head so that they are staring into each other’s eyes. Barney raises himself from his pillow so that he can kiss Ted, and when he bites Ted’s lip, maybe a little harder than he should, his friend whimpers, a punched-out and breathy sound. Barney decides that he wants to hear that tiny, dreamy moan again, hear more, more, more. He attempts to tear his face free from Ted’s hold, but when that doesn’t work he settles for running his hands over every bit of soft, unblemished skin he can find. When he dibs his fingers into the small of Ted’s lower back Ted gasps, deep in his throat, his eyes snapping shut, like it’s all just too much. _Jackpot_. Barney teases that tender little spot until Ted catches his hands and slams them into the pillow next to his head, effectively rendering Barney incapable of any more investigation.  
“Lie still” Ted says, a smile on his lips and in his eyes, “I can’t concentrate when you do that”.  
Barney huffs in frustration, but when he sees the expression on Ted’s face he falls silent, because Ted is looking at him like he is seeing him for the first time, really seeing him. Barney sort of wants to cry under the intense scrutiny, but to his shock he realizes that he needs this. He needs to be seen by Ted, or he will shatter. Maybe not now, maybe not after this, but when Ted leaves and they go back to normal he inevitably will. But at least Ted will know it all by then.

Even so, Barney is shivering, both from Ted’s closeness and from the next words he speak, uttered into the loaded quiet between them; “you want to know what you do to me?”  
Barney nods, eyes wide, heart beating, crazy _in love_ with this man who doesn’t love him back. But... There is something, isn’t there? _Stop that. You have to stop_.  
Ted suddenly releases Barney’s hands. He sits back, and Barney is left alone on the bed, cold, chest heaving and eyes darting. He follows Ted’ measured movements and is so absorbed in him that he almost misses the question.  
“What?”  
“Where’s your lube?” Ted asks. He smiles at Barney, like he can read his mind and knows how easily he worries. Barney points to the nightstand and falls back on the pillows, trying to get his breathing under control.

Ted returns to the bed and climbs in so that he is once again capturing Barney’s body with his own, tangling their legs. He nuzzles Barney’s ear with his nose and whispers sweetly, “can’t you feel what you do to me?”  
Barney can, in fact, feel it. Ted’s desire for him is evident, hard and insistent against his thigh. Oh yes, he feels it. He’d have to be dead not to feel it.  
“No, not really” he says, a teasing sparkle in his grey eyes, “I think you’ll have to tell me”  
Ted rolls his eyes in return, a fond smile on his lips. He slowly, experimentally, starts rocking against Barney, causing every single coherent thought Barney might still be in possession of to take leave from his head as every nerve in his body spikes.  
“Okay, let’s see” Ted says, his tone light and almost conversational, but his hands on Barney are like pin-points of light – scorching and unbearable in just the right way.  
“When I look at you I can’t think straight”, Ted presses his lips to Barney’s, “and you don’t even know. When you smile, and laugh, and the way you _move_ ”  
Ted’s eyes have something almost savage in them, something primal; it sends a thrill of nervous excitement down Barney’s spine.  
“The way you _look_. You’ve got any idea how perfect you are? I could look at you forever, and when we’re sitting in the bar and you are wearing those suits, I just want to take you home and wreck you. I want to make you beg for me. I want to fuck you ‘til you scream and forget your own name. I want to know what you look like bent over and eager to be taken. I bet you beg so prettily. You’re so beautiful, Barney, fuck, so pretty.”  
Barney squirms beneath him, letting out a litany of soft little moans at every press of fingertips and every dirty syllable purred into his ear.  
“Ted” he gasps, but Ted silences him with a kiss. His words are sin as he feeds them into Barney’s mouth, “It’s torture, seeing you pick up girls. It should be me. It should be only me”  
He looks into Barney’s face, his expression raw and earnest. Trust Ted not to be able to be filthy for more than a few minutes before turning sentimental again. Not that Barney minds at all. Ted says, his voice shivering faintly, “will you let it be me?”  
_God, yes, you sap._

Looking up at Ted, Barney says in between ragged breaths, “yes. I will”  
Ted exhales in a long, relieved sigh, and smiles.  
“Okay. That’s... That’s good” he says, and Barney makes a sound that is sort of like a giggle-snort. He touches Ted’s face gingerly, smoothing out the wrinkles having formed a frown on his forehead, before slipping his hand into dark hair and gently messing up the already tussled locks.  
“That _is_ good” Barney agrees, and kisses Ted sweetly, before saying, with an air of finality “now... I think we should do it”  
Ted chuckles, and Barney is overwhelmed with emotion. Words die on his tongue as Ted asks, “How do you want me?”  
He swallows. That is an insanely difficult question to answer, because he wants Ted in every way conceivable, but he can only choose one from the long line of fantasies stuffed into the back of his imagination, in the locked box of wishes he never dared to hope would come true and things he never thought he would be lucky enough to have. Somehow he settles on one of them:  
“I’d like to ride you”

“Fuck” Ted says, wide-eyed and captivated, “yes, please. Please, do that”  
Barney pushes against the madras with his heels and arms, flipping them so that Ted is on his back. Barney is actually very into being dominated, and the thought of Ted pushing him to his hands and knees and driving into him from behind is an extremely enticing one. But tonight he wants to be the one who is in control. He wants to set the pace. He needs that. Ted reaches for Barney and pushes the shirt off of his shoulders and down his arms. It catches and gets stuck at the elbows, so Barney takes over and struggles it off the rest of the way. He pauses for a moment as Ted touches his chest with long fingers and bites his own lip. His cheeks are red and his hands are shaking against Barney’s skin. Barney feels the slight tremor all the way into the marrow of his bones. Ted brushes one of Barney’s nipples, then pinches it, and Barney closes his eyes for just a second as the desire rushes over him like a tidal wave.  
He takes the bottle of lube from Ted’s slack grip, uncorks it and squeezes a generous amount into his palm Glancing down at Ted, whose chest is rising and falling with every hectic heartbeat, he finds his hole and presses against it with a finger.

He moans at the contact and Ted makes a sound like he has been shot. The pressure is exquisite and his entrance gives easily, still loose and tender from before (in the kitchen, Ted asking him to come in his mouth, dude’s _kinky_ ). He fucks himself open with three long fingers, forehead damp with exertion and mouth hanging open. He hears himself panting softly like an animal in heat and he would be embarrassed, he would, but right now he hasn’t got the presence of mind for such silly, irrational things. There is only room for the sensations; his frantic intake of air at every drag of fingertips against his prostate, the way Ted watches him, like Barney hung the stars in the night sky, the weight of Ted’s fingers as they seize his hips and hold on, rough and desperate, like he is trying to brand Barney, leave burning fingerprints against pale skin. It’s a lot to take in. Almost too much.

“God, you look amazing” Ted breathes, eyes glazed over with arousal, and Barney feels his own impatience unfurl in a shameless moan. He definitely has a praise kink of some kind. He starts working his fingers even faster. Soon his cock is dripping pre-come onto Ted’s stomach.  
When he is sure that he is ready to take Ted inside him Barney removes his fingers as gracefully as he can manage with his entire hand covered in excess lube. He inelegantly dries it off in the sheet and rises on his knees so that he is hovering above Ted. Ted looks up at him. His eyes are wide and dark, and in them Barney sees the gravity of it all, the same magnitude he feels himself, blindsiding him completely with the realization that everything is about to change between them.  
“I don’t know how you can just...” Barney says, then stops, at a loss for words. Instead he gets his hand around Ted’s erection and lines it up so that the head is pushing against Barney’s opening – a slight but insistent pressure that causes Barney’s mouth to dry up. He swallows deeply, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. His entire body trembles when he carefully sinks down, enveloping Ted, feeling _everything_ _everywhere_ , groaning sweetly into the heated air between them. God, Ted is thick. He lowers himself a few centimeters, then rises again, down, up, repeat, until he gets used to the feeling of being filled. He makes a little sound of pleasure that tapers into a broken moan when Ted snaps his hips up, rolls into him with a long, filthy slide. Barney chases him down onto the madras and settles fully against him, his backside fitting snugly in the cradle of Ted’s hipbones. He starts to lift himself back up but is put to a stop by Ted’s hands holding him steady.

“Barney, wait up”  
Something twists itself inside Barney. Has he done something wrong? Does it show on his face how quickly a single, innocent thought spirals into something irrational and hurtful?  
Ted pets his stomach soothingly, “What were you going to say?”  
His dark hair is matted with sweat, sticking to his forehead, and his voice is slightly strained with the effort to lie still and not trust up into Barney. Barney knows that he shouldn’t be thinking these things – look at what he is doing - but he can’t help it. Self-doubt is rearing its’ ugly, poisonous head, seeking validation and preventing Barney from enjoying anything. Like it has always done.  
Ted’s forehead creases in concern.  
“Barney, if you don’t want to do this I completely understand” he says, slowly, his hands releasing their hold on Barney’s waist. He moves to take his hand instead, entwining their fingers and squeezing them lightly, “you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to”.  
It is understandable why Ted might interpret Barney’s hesitation as a sign that he has changed his mind about them having sex. Understandable, but a gross misinterpretation none the less.  
“No, that’s not it” Barney says, “I want to. I just – “  
To his utter mortification he feels the tip of his ears going red. He is still acutely aware of Ted’s cock inside him, and when Ted shuffles a little beneath him and by coincidence touches against somewhere great inside Barney, he moans, a wet, punched out sound from deep in his chest.  
“Ted, you say things” he rushes when he is finally able to speak normally again.  
The side of Ted’s mouth curls in amusement. He has relaxed visibly now that Barney has assured him that he isn’t having second thoughts.

He laughs and winces a bit when the blond feebly hits him on the shoulder, “I’m sorry?”  
Barney tries to growl at him, but he is caught somewhere between laughter and frustration, and so he just does something weird with his face that ends up in an uneasy chuckle; “you said I look amazing. And pretty, and that I am – “ he pauses, unable to voice the compliments Ted showered him with not too long ago. Ted’s expression shifts into something more serious as the implication of what Barney isn’t saying manifests itself between them. He lifts his hand – the one that isn’t locked with Barney’s – and brushes his fingers across Barney’s cheek, a touch so gentle that Barney feels like he might just cry.  
“Barney” he says, “you don’t think I meant it?”  
“That’s not it, I – “ Barney averts his gaze, but leans into Ted’s touch, “I’m not used to people telling me things like that”. His face is on fire, maybe, he thinks.

Ted looks like he has been struck, and there is a fierce edge to his voice as he says, “those people are idiots”. His eyes widen when realization hits, “I’m an idiot”  
Barney giggles, a sort of wet hiccup-y sound, and leans in to kiss Ted, “you’re not”  
“I’m a jackass”  
“You can’t be” Barney insist with an air of finality. The stupid, big, stupid-stupid smile seems to be permanently stuck on his face.  
Ted tilts his head, confused, “why not?”  
“I don’t make a habit of sitting on faces of jackasses”  
Ted’s pupils dilate, almost swallowing up the brown of his iris, and his breath comes a little faster, like he is struggling. His hand lets go of Barney’s fingers, instead travelling south to grasp his wrist. He does the same thing with Barney’s other hand, and then Barney is held in place, hands in the air like a surrender, and Ted looks... He also looks like he wants to make Barney scream and cry and beg. Barney is not opposed to that.  
“Please” says Ted, hoarsely, his hands tightening around Barney’s arms to a point where it’s almost painful, “please, please, fuck – Jesus – “  
And Barney knows that this won’t be the last time, because Ted is looking at him like he has seen an impossible thing. His heart is so fucking full of things, it feels like his chest should expand from all the feelings inside of him. His head is light and his smile is wild and his eyes must be a little savage, too, as he grinds down with no warning. Ted moans, then snarls like something primal, and bucks up into Barney and there is stars behind Barney’s eyelids when they slip shot.

He forces them open again – he needs to look at Ted, needs to see his face and know that this is _real_ – and starts to set a rhythm. First it’s slow and careful, slightly hindered by Ted still clutching at his wrist. Barney feels Ted’s nails digging into the skin above his pulse and wow, wouldn’t it be hot if he had marks there tomorrow, and he makes a long, thin, keening sound in the back of his throat when Ted picks up speed, thrusting haphazardly, frantic, against him, pounding into his ass from beneath. He finally lets go of Barney’s hands and Barney whimpers as he dips down and kisses him messily, slobby kisses on every part of Ted he can reach. Ted grabs him by his hips and moves and it’s heaven, but Ted is taking control, and Barney won’t have that. So he pins Ted’s hands above his head, robbing him of his leverage, and starts fucking himself on Ted, launching them into a pace much faster than before as he writhes on Ted’s cock, spreading his legs wider and taking as much of him as he can. The quick slide of Ted in and out of him almost sends Barney spiraling, and he is caught between wanting to drag this out forever and reaching release. He settles for the latter. They can do slow dance later. Ted is groaning and making sounds that go straight to Barney’s dick and Barney moves like he is in a frenzy, canting his hips eratically, and he feels feverish with the euphoria vibrating in his vein. They are careening towards resolution and ted pulls him down and kisses him and is everywhere, engulfing Barney in warmth and kindness and sweet whispers. Barney clenches tight around him, a stuttering moan passing across his lips, as his orgasm comes tearing through him.

He winds his arms around Ted’s shoulders and presses his face against Ted’s neck as he takes himself in hand, pumping his cock two times, three, before coming between their stomachs. He cries out in a mix between surprise and bliss, and he is trembling like a leaf in a storm. Ted moans as Barney’s walls shudder around him, and then, after a few jerky movements, he comes, too, Barney kissing him through it.  
They slump against each other, spent and happy. Ted wraps his arms around Barney and presses a soft kiss to his cheek. They are a mess, all sticky and disgusting, but it is perfect.  
“That was amazing” Ted whispers, and Barney smiles against his lips when he kisses them again.  
A comfortable silence settles around them like a gentle embrace. Barney’s hand finds its’ way to Ted’s chest. His heart beats steadily beneath Barney’s palm, a strong, soothing cadence. God, he wants this to last.

It doesn’t take long before the come between them dries and starts to become itchy, and Barney carefully, regretfully, untangles himself from Ted’s embrace. Ted slips out from him and it’s a strange sensation, but not unpleasant. He goes to the bathroom to fetch a wet towel to clean them with. Pausing in front of the mirror by the sink he studies his face in the reflection. Everything has changed, but he looks the same. The only difference is the smile. He hasn’t smiled for weeks, and now his cheeks are hurting with excess happiness. It’s a nice change. He stands there for a while, until Ted’s call of his name takes him back to reality. He returns to the bed and cleans the come from his stomach. Then he starts to do the same for Ted. He works without saying anything, and when the come is gone from Ted’s skin he runs his fingertips across the expanse of Ted’s chest reverently. He feels more than sees Ted shivering beneath his touch.  
“Barney” he says, so softly.

“Yeah?” Barney asks, and he looks up into Ted’s eyes and the whole world falls away.  
Ted reaches for him and he doesn’t even have to ask, because Barney loves him. He loves him so much. He wonders if he knows. The blonde drops the washcloth onto the floor and flops down next to Ted, curling against him, twining their legs together. Ted pets his hair lazily, catching the strands between his fingers and tugging at them gently, as he whispers, “I’m sorry”  
Barney hesitates, then feels something tether inside him.  
“I know” he says, then admits, “I’m sorry, too”  
It takes a lot out of him to admit that he too messed up a little, but he feels like he has to.  
“What for?” Ted turns his head to look down at him with a puzzled expression.  
“I called you cruel. Back then in the bar. I didn’t mean that, I was just upset.”  
“But I was. I was cruel”  
Barney shakes his head against Ted’s shoulder, “you weren’t. Not intentionally. You just didn’t realize it”

“I didn’t” Ted says. He takes Barney’s hand, “but I’m still sorry”  
“I forgive you”  
Ted’s face turns serious then. When Ted is thoughtful like this it looks like he is frowning with his entire body. Barney wants to kiss the wrinkles away, one by one.  
He asks, “What happens now?”  
“To be honest I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I just needed to see you. I didn’t think I would be this lucky”  
Barney feels a sting of hurt, some malicious little voice in his head wondering if it was a pity-bang. _Is that even a thing?_  
“But – “ continues Ted, when he feels Barney tense up in his arms, “I want _something_ to happen. I like you a lot. _A lot_ a lot”  
Barney’s heart calms down and sings a little. He bites his lip and decides to be brave, “I like you to. I love you, I’m in love with you. You make my head quiet”  
Ted’s expression morphs from one of disbelief into sudden, astonished delight. He looks amazed, elated, and Barney might just cry with relief.

“I’m sorry to spring something like that on you” Barney says as he realizes what a big part of his heart he has just shared with Ted. Maybe he shouldn’t have. But right now he is raw and vulnerable and everything else is out in the open, so this should be, too.  
“I’m glad you did” Ted says. There is a kiss at the corner of his lips and Barney feels like it belongs to him. He wants all of Ted’s kisses to be his.  
“I love you, too”  
Time stops, like someone has punched the button on a freezeray. Barney’s lips part, but his voice betrays him. This is all he has ever wanted. Quiet stretches between them. Ted watches him, gaze soft and patient, not saying anything as he lets Barney figure out what to do with this new information.  
He finally finds the words and says, voice shaking slightly, “you don’t have to say that. I don’t expect that from you”  
“It’s the truth”  
Ted leans back to look at Barney properly. He is smiling, and his hand, the one not around Barney’s shoulder, brushes across the corner of Barney’s mouth, “you are beautiful and kind and I’m falling in love with you”  
“Oh. Okay” Barney breathes. When has he been dropped into the plot of a romance novel? And does he ever have to go back to his own reality?

Ted laughs, a smooth, happy sound, “okay?”  
“Okay” Barney says, and now he is smiling, too. Ted’s smile is stupid contagious. He nipples at Ted’s fingertip when it passes by his lips, carefully closing his mouth around the digit and delighting in the little intake of breath from Ted.  
“I have a question” Ted says.  
“What?”  
“Are you really going to sit on my face?”  
Barney feels a flush rising in his cheeks, and his voice is lower, deeper when he says, “if you’d like me to”  
Ted grins, pressing a brief kiss to Barney’s knuckles, “I’d love you to.”  
Barney’s smile turns into a grin; he feels it stretching his cheeks, and it’s wonderful, “tonight?”  
“or tomorrow” Ted says. He yawns then, stretching with his arms over his head, “I’m tired”

He pauses, then asks, words carefully chosen, “can I... I mean, if you want me to, I’d like to stay over?”  
Ted wants to stay. He wants to _stay_.  
“Yes”  
“I’ll make you pancakes”  
“Many pancakes”  
“You can help me with the crossword. Saturday’s my crossword day”  
“I’m great with crosswords”  
“We can cuddle”  
“cuddle? dirty, Ted! You kiss your mother with that mouth?”  
“I’ll kiss you with that mouth”  
“Good, you better”  
Ted smiles at him and it’s perfect.

 _He picks me_  
He sees me  
He loves me  
He has his answers.


End file.
